


Who are you?

by himoonlightunderscore



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himoonlightunderscore/pseuds/himoonlightunderscore
Summary: Sometimes our dreams are better than reality.
Relationships: Alex & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. You're my dream

\- I know this is going to sound weird, but do you know any Reginald who likes country music?

  
The girl in front of me looks at me as if I have just said the biggest nonsense she has ever heard. Her smile fades and she checks around us as if looking for someone who had also heard my question.

  
There is no one around because it is twelve thirty-two and everyone is already in the cafeteria. I waited all morning just to have privacy with her - in case she decides to call me crazy, the only witnesses will be me and her friend Flynn. Flynn, however, is not around, which gives me extra courage.

  
Julie is an intriguing girl. She seems very understandable and kind, but I feel like my sanity is in her hands, which makes her figure weigh too much on me. I can't look away from her worried features, feeling bad for making her feel like this. I know she had a terrible year having to deal with her mother's death and all the block to play and sing, but I can't help it.

  
Not knowing the truth is going to consume me.

  
\- What did you say? - She asks.

  
Julie and I have never spoken before. I am a year older than her and our school schedules have never crossed, even though I’ve seen her in the halls before. Everyone knows the incredible voice she has, the artistic talent that seems to run through her fingers - it would be impossible not to know about her reputation. What made me talk to her, though, was Reginald.

  
Reggie.

  
A boy I thought didn't really exist until three days ago.

  
\- I asked if you know any Reginald who likes country music. - I repeat in a lower tone. - Do you think we can talk?

  
She doesn't hesitate to agree and soon steps forward to go to the music room. I only know about the existence of that classroom because some of my friends like to go there during lunch hours to sleep a little before afternoon classes. She opens the door, lets me go through, and closes it behind me, making sure we're alone.

  
We sit in the back of the room, near the windows. The horizontal blinds are open and the weather looks happy. The sun shines brightly and there are no clouds to tell the story of the crazy girl who has been dreaming of someone unreal for months and had fallen in love with a non-existent being.

  
It's funny how the figurative tranquility makes me uneasy. The day seems peaceful, serene while chaos is established inside of me. The blue, maroon and white paintings on the wall seem to make fun of my nervousness; the delicate yet majestic instruments seem to want me to leave considering that my madness is too much for anyone to bear.

  
Julie looks at me not knowing that she is my hope and that also makes me anxious. Possibly even more apprehensive than comparing my problems with the calmness of the place around me.

  
\- I'm not sure where to start or if you're going to believe me, but I need you to listen carefully. If it doesn't make sense to you, if you don't know what I'm talking about, please just ignore it, ok?

  
Julie nods and moves her chair closer to mine. Her eyes look worried and I can see that she is an ordinary person. As much as many people have put her on a pedestal, she looks normal and comprehensive at close range. She doesn't look like someone who would be evil and bitter of her own accord and it's comforting to know that even if she can't help me, maybe she can understand my torments in some way.

  
I let the air enter my lungs, my shoulders going up and down slightly. She doesn't pressure me to speak even though I can interpret by her fingers tapping on her leg that she wants me to say something soon.

  
Without thinking too much about word choices, I open my heart to her because some things need to be shared.

  
Even when it's not easy to start.

  
\- A few months ago I started having dreams with Reggie. He looks just like the guy you sing in that band with, the bass player. A friend of mine showed me a video of you a few days ago and I know it's him, it can only be him. - Without thinking too much, my hands reach for hers, as if begging her to believe me. Julie doesn't back down or make a move to start laughing and that encourages me to continue, with as many details as possible. - Do you know who he is? My friend said they are holograms, but probably it's inspired by some real person, right?

  
My speech starts to get tangled up and Julie continues with the same expression as when we arrived, just listening to what I have to say. I feel pathetic because I seem to be performing a show for something that in the eyes of others may be irrelevant. I wish I could explain to her that I am usually a very rational person. I like reasonable explanations, the feeling of being in control of where I am going, of having a detailed plan on how to achieve my goals. In general I know that unforeseen events can happen, but the relief that organization and rationality bring me is too comforting and important for me to be able to accept Reggie in my life under normal circumstances.

  
However, he quickly became someone important to me and it's scary how just the thought of him can make me feel nice and peaceful.

  
Reggie brought me peace of the kind that you often seek while sleeping or resting. Peace of the kind that we look for when looking at the sky, at flowers, at children playing in a park happily. He, someone I didn't know, offered me happiness by just appearing in my dreams, smiling at my sleeping version. It was something about his adorable smile, his small teeth, his upturned nose and expressive eyebrows. It was something about the way he made me laugh, how he had genuine intentions about everything, how his beautiful eyes lit up when he talked about something he liked.

  
\- I don't know anything about creating holograms, sorry. - Julie answers, smiling weakly and clearing her throat. She looks uncomfortable, so I let go of her hand. - But if I find anything about it, I'll let you know.

  
\- Julie, you really don't know anything about him? He loves pizza, has a very peculiar sense of humor and likes children and animals. He likes it very much. He is not very close to his family, but he regards his two best friends as if they were brothers. He is kind, understanding and real. I guess truthful is a better choice of words, cause I don't know if he really exists.

  
I know she can see my distress from the way I'm letting the words flow, but I can't help it. Reggie not only brings me peace but also a feeling of belonging that seems to go beyond the moment.

  
It's not like I'm getting to know him, it's like I'm recognizing him.

  
\- Look, are you sure you are not confusing him with someone else?

  
Julie herself doesn't seem to believe or agree with her question. I'm being too specific and I know it. I know this because Reggie asked for my help on Thursday night's dream, saying that he didn't know if he could make it. I know this because he told me the name of his band. I know this because he said he didn't recognize me, but that he felt the same way about me, about us.

  
\- Julie, I know about Sunset Curve. I looked them up and I know they died 25 years ago. - I answer, looking at my own feet. I don't want her to think I'm a threat and that I'm going to expose her secret. I just want answers, I just want a chance to understand my connection with Reggie. - I just want to know if you know Reggie. If there is anyone I can ask why he appears in my dreams, why I…

  
I can't complete it out loud, but mentally I say "fell in love with him".

  
I know why I fell in love with him, to be honest.

  
Reggie is physically familiar. More than that, it's like meeting someone special who means a lot to me. He's someone whose beauty comes from his smile. The kind of person who is always trying to see the positive in things. Who never believes that he has actually lost anything or that he is in the wrong place. He's the type to believe that every thing he dropped on the floor and didn't see, every umbrella forgotten somewhere, every delay unintentionally; everything means something. An arrangement so that he could be in the place he is in right now and that this place could not be a mistake. He's the type who doesn't bother with something that broke, with something unexpected, with something he isn't planning because he is convinced that maybe he broke a plate today so he could go to the market and find money on the floor or just feel how pleasant the day is. That maybe he was late because the bus he was going to take was going to break down halfway. He is the type who thinks that regardless of the situation, he is in the right place, where he should be.

  
Reggie has an engaging aura, as much as I couldn't even explain what exactly it means. He is affectionate, funny and I don't think I could ever create him.

  
\- Why you…? - She insists.

  
\- Why I feel this way about him.

  
Julie seems to think about what I said and I choose not to press her. I pay attention to the room, on how the sun comes through the window and makes me think of the day I met Reggie.

  
My first dream with him was at a book club. It was a friendly place that I had never visited before; a two-story white house with a big backyard. The meeting took place outside and the residence looked like it was turned into a cultural center. About five people had books in their hands and were talking excitedly about the story, going on about the metaphors the author had used to explain the parents' suffering when they lost their child. Near the boundaries of the place, three boys who seemed out of place were talking quietly. At their feet, boxes of instruments looked like misunderstood foreigners while snacks and sweets on the table near them were very much welcomed. The blond boy next to Reggie was talking to another boy about something I couldn't hear and Reggie seemed to shine.

  
It was late afternoon and the sun was passing through the trees in the yard. The white fence he leaned against contrasted with the black clothes he wore, while the darkness of the fabric contradicted with the gentleness of his face. He had caught my attention the minute my eyes met his.

  
Without saying anything, Reggie came towards me, making me nervous. In the dream, however, I was a man. As much as I was living and seeing everything from my point of view, my body was masculine and taller. My hands were calloused for some reason that I did not know and my clothes were extremely large, almost sloppy.

  
\- Hi. - Reggie said, smiling as if he knew me. His eyes were shining and I was sure mine were too. - Do you have a name or can I call you mine?

  
We were not too far away from his friends for them not to hear us. Soon they started laughing out loud, embarrassed by the pick up line. I couldn't help but laugh, even though in some part of my brain I knew that maybe if the situation was rationalized, I would find it weird. However, I felt the same way about him. The desire to meet him, to know his preferences, to feel what his hand would be like in mine.

  
\- Maybe I went too far with that one. - He said, giving me no chance to answer. - I think I have the right to remain silent.

  
\- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - The blonde said, making the other friend laugh even louder. Some man behind us asked us to speak quietly and right then the sun stopped touching the man in front of me. It seemed that we finally understood that moment; seemed that the universe made sense.

  
Reginald was speechless, just like me. We looked at each other for a while, admiring each other's details. Because of that exact moment I would know how to point the timid freckles on your nose even with my eyes shut or on the way his eyes seemed to have at least four different shades of blue and green. At that moment I fell in love with his skin, his dimples, how well his hair was combed and how he smelled of jasmine.

  
\- Hey. - I replied to him, holding out my hand. He looked into my eyes, then my lips and then took my hand in his. Time seemed to stop around us. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

  
Julie touches my arm, pulling me out of my memories.

  
\- I don't know if I would have answers for you. - She says. - I'm sorry.

  
Julie gets up and goes to the door. I can't ignore the fact that my throat is dry and my hands are shaking slightly in anticipation of any more response that she wants to give me. Anything, any explanation that might justify how I feel about Reggie.

  
She suddenly stops and turns to me with wide eyes.

  
\- You can't see, right? - She asks.

  
I don't know what she's talking about, so I just shake my head.

  
\- Where's Reggie? - She talks again.

  
When I open my mouth to say that I don't know, he appears near the piano. His eyes are more intense than in my dreams and he does not smell of jasmine, but it's still him.

  
My Reggie.

  
I get up quickly and almost trip over the chair, making Julie look at me with even wider eyes. I look from her to him, repeating the process a few times.

  
He wasn't there a few seconds ago.

  
He appeared in the middle of nowhere.

  
Him.

  
He exists.

  
\- What's going on here? - He asks Julie, but his body is turned towards me. I look him straight in the eye and walk slowly because I'm afraid this is a dream and I want to spend more time looking at him like that. - Julie, why does it look like she sees me?

  
\- I see you, Reggie. - I speak softly, not diverting my attention from him. - You exist.

  
He opens his mouth a few times, not understanding what is happening and I feel the same thing that I felt in that book club.

  
Feels like I'm coming home, that I love him, that everything makes sense. I feel that there is too much of him in my heart.

  
\- Can you see me? - He asks, walking slowly towards me. It seems the same distance from my first dream; the same strong feeling of belonging, of finding something that I had already given up looking for. - Do you really see me?

  
\- I see you, I can really see you.

  
My vision starts to blur and I hear Julie talking in the background, but I can only look at him and ask myself if he knows who I am, if he feels the same. When a tear falls from my eyes, Reggie walks faster, ending our distance and extending his hand to touch my face. When I feel a shy and almost unnoticed contact, I close my eyes and throw myself into his arms, but I can't find his body.

  
Confused, I open my eyes again.

  
He's not there.

  
He disappeared in the middle of nowhere.

  
Him.

  
He does not exist.

  
\- It's just a dream, isn't it? Is this my farewell to him? Will I never see him again in my dreams? - I ask Julie. I touch the piano that seemed so close to Reggie before and let my fingers roam the black top of the instrument. I just wish I could feel him the same way. - I could have swore that this is real, but I think I love Reggie so much that he made me like being asleep more than being awake. It is terrible to love him in my dreams and not have him when I wake up in the morning.

  
\- You love me?

  
His voice sounds behind me and when I turn, he's there.

  
\- Who are you? - I ask, like an idiot. I know who he is, but I need to understand a few things before I completely freak out.

  
Julie walks over to me and touches my wrist. She seems to be asking me not to scream or pass out. Something in Reggie's eyes is apologizing silently and I'm afraid of his answer.

  
\- I'm Reggie. - He smiles weakly and it hurts me because it's a sad smile. - And I think you're my unfinished business.


	2. Can you feel me?

\- What? How can you know that? - Julie asks, sounding surprised. - No, Luke, I don't know her.

Reggie's gaze is fixed on me. I feel chills rising from my belly to the tips of my ears so I shake my shoulders, trying to get rid of the sensation.

\- Alex, don't do that. - Reggie says, looking in my direction. Confused, I turn around looking for Alex, but there is nobody there.

It's amazing how realistic the hologram is. It's almost like I can see the colors of Reggie's eyes clearly, even his pores and freckles. I search for a projector and find nothing, so I decide it's time to stop ignoring my questions. Reggie has already confirmed that he is who I imagined, so it's Julie's turn to clarify what kind of madness is going on.

The acting classes haven't prepared me at all for the moment that I find myself questioning my own sanity.

\- Are Alex and Luke part of the band? - I ask to no one in particular. I accept responses from Julie or Reggie. Maybe I prefer Julie, since Reginald is a synonym for craziness in my mind. - Reggie never told me their names.

\- Can't you see them?

\- No. Are they here too? Why can't I see their hologram as well?

Reggie gives a short sarcastic laugh, something I've never seen him do. Be ironic. That was not as attractive as his easy-going personality, his funny and flirtatious ways and his warm smile. It seemed to clash with his version of my dreams and I wondered if maybe it was all a lie. It could be that I had created that Reggie completely and as much as the happiness I felt for him was not a lie, it could be that he, as the person I loved, did not exist. Still, I wanted to be close to him and be able to love him from up close.

\- We are not holograms and I thought you already knew that. - He replied. - No, Alex, it's okay. I can't explain, but I just know she is important. It's natural, just like you can tell when it's time to go to the bathroom, you know?

I look at Julie waiting for her to say something, mainly because I prefer not to think about Reggie's comparison of his feelings with an internal sphincter alerting his brain about his physiological needs.

Julie doesn't seem convinced, but she looks defeated.

\- I think we have a lot to explain, but we need time. Can you meet us after class? In the chemistry lab? It's my last class of the day. - She says, looking tired and conflicted. I really don’t want to make her feel that way, but I am already too irritated at the way I handled things before. I'm almost mad at my own personality.

I am basically a shy person. However, there's a lot of different personas within me that can appear depending on who's around me or where I am. The original Y/N, the person I am independently of the environment or how I am with, is irrationally careful. I prefer to observe people, not bother anyone, not speak too loudly if it is not necessary. That's why I am not offended that Julie doesn't know me; because I am unapologetic for my personality - I am not ashamed of not wanting everyone to know my name, no matter how much I like the art that puts me in the spotlight.

Maybe art is different for girls like me and Carrie Wilson, for example. She performs for other people while I do it for myself, to help and express myself. I'm still not sure what kind of person Julie is, possibly a mix of both of us.

\- I think I'll spend the rest of the day with... what's your name again? - Reggie says, looking a little more like the version of my dreams.

I was excited before, but now I am just questioning my own decisions. I seemed to have complicated Julie's life and Reggie didn't seem so happy to meet me. The idea that I had created for that moment was certainly better in my head than in real life, because in my imagination Reginald would have explanations for me and would also fall in love easily. I blame it on my overthinking skills and stupid research, because according to what I had read, it was a case of "connection beyond life", not just a series of coincidences and feelings nurtured with patience. Apparently, we were soulmates. 

Or it could be that I saw his band somewhere before and created the whole story in my mind. Detailed and with too many specific facts, but it's still a possibility.

For the first time, I don't prefer to believe in the rational explanation. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of madness and magic for things to sound and be better.

\- My name is Y/N L/N. - I answer. - But in a dream you called me…

\- L/N! - A shout coming from the door interrupts me. Nick is standing there, looking weird. His dark jeans and long black jacket don't seem to match the boy who usually greets me with an excited and happy smile. It's something in his posture and in the way his eyes seem to call for help. He looks uncomfortable. - I waited for you in the cafeteria to help me with math, but you didn't show up.

He doesn't say anything about Reggie, so I assume he disappeared again. I don't know what Julie's trick is, but I don't turn around to check so I don't look crazy.

Nick's features soften unnaturally. He seems to be practicing some theatrical exercise, considering that his mouth forms and deforms a smile every second, imitating a broken doll. His eyes are on Julie, as if expecting a reaction from her and I wonder if he's using me to try to make her jealous. Which clearly wouldn't do any good. People don't even associate my name with his; everyone knows that I am only his tutor. And to me he is almost like a distant younger cousin.

\- Sorry, Julie was helping me with a song. - I lie, smiling weakly at him and adjusting my backpack. I don't like to lie because I'm bad at it, but we're not close enough for me to feel bad or anything. The actress persona helps at times like this. - But now I have to go to my next class. Thanks for the help, Julie. Tomorrow at lunch I'll help you, Nick. I'm really sorry, I completely forgot about it.

I nod at her and widen my eyes when I see Reggie standing beside me. I turn completely to Nick and he doesn't show any reaction, so I just keep walking outside with Reggie by my side, looking at me with a funny look on his face. He walks sideways and I can't help but smile at the feeling of him so close to me.

In order not to look crazy, I search my pockets for earphones and grab a script from the last play we worked on. I pretend to train lines while talking to him.

\- Nobody can see you. This is too weird. Shouldn't you be a hologram? - I ask, looking ahead and speaking quietly. There aren't many students in the hallways yet because there are still a few minutes before class starts, but I need to be discreet anyway. - Why can I see you then?

In a wider step, he stops in front of me and starts walking backwards. I can look him in the eyes while I feel butterflies in my stomach. With his attention on me, I seem to have an entire zoo inside my stomach wanting to express how I feel about him.

\- I'm not a hologram. - He answers. - Do you know what happens to people when they die?

\- They turn to dust? - I try. Reggie ponders, but nods no. - They turn into stars?

He laughs. In a precious way that seems to heal any pain I may feel.

He laughs. And time seems to stop.

Seeing his smile and his happiness in front of me makes me want to physically express what I feel, so before I can think about it, my arms reach up to hug him. In slowmotion, I see Reggie close his eyes and smile, as if waiting for my arms to wrap around him, as if he also wants a physical confirmation of affection. His cute dimples appear and I imagine that I, standing alone in the hall, look like an idiot.

My arms go through him, so I pretend I'm stretching.

\- I wish I could feel you. - He speaks. His tone breaks my heart even when I thought it was not possible to feel more disappointmented.

I don't know what to say to him, so I don't say anything. It was natural in my dreams to walk hand in hand, touch his nose with mine, hug him and feel the warmth emanating from his body. Both dreams, as a man and in the recent ones as myself: I always knew that Reginald was there. As much as dreams were not part of physical reality, I seemed to really feel him, so I made an effort to demonstrate how happy he made me feel. And he also didn't hold back, always expressing with his body that he was there; either touching my hair, playing with my fingers, bumping his shoulders against mine, anything. I didn't understand how frustrating it could be to not be able to touch him until this moment. When this simple verb is all I desire.

To touch him.

But he is dead.

I'm in love with a ghost that lived in my dreams.

The two of us, defeated and without exchanging another word, get to the auditorium quickly. The door is open, but there is no one inside. We enter in silence and sit in the back. The comfortable black chairs and the maroon carpet are about to witness my madness when he sits beside me and puts his hand on mine. He stares at his fingers with intensity, making a vein in his neck pop a little. I can't help looking at him without reservations, mentally writing down his details. The way his face is triangular, his pink cheeks and his adorable asymmetrical nose. His lips are slightly parted and his hair looks so soft and inviting to the touch. I only look away from his face when I feel a light weight on my skin.

He is touching my hand in a timid and almost imperceptible way. Shocked, I look at the position of our fingers, feeling hope run through my body. The intoxicating and numbing hope.

Hope that he can be real.

\- I can hold a few things when I focus. - Reggie doesn't look able to focus on more than one thing at the same time though. - And with you I have difficulty focusing, to be honest.

With that comment, I can't help but smile. My shock is exchanged with happiness to know that I'm not feeling all these beautiful feelings alone. That I'm not by myself, trying to understand the bad ones either.

\- Are you a ghost, Reggie? - The question rolls off my tongue with difficulty. It doesn't sound like a question; it's more of a statement. He confirms my assumption and I can taste the bad flavor that hope can give. It's a taste of disappointment, sadness, resentment. - And I am your unfinished business, hum? What does that mean?

\- I'm not sure what I need to do, but I know it involves you. At least I think so. And even if you don't feel the same way, you can see me, but not Alex and Luke. Until now, I thought we had unfinished business together, but maybe each one of us has separate things that we need to take care of. - His touch disappears and I miss him. I can't feel him anymore, but the weight of his words certainly make up for it. - We need to find out what's our deal.

"Our deal". So romantic.

Before I can answer, the teacher arrives with a group of students behind him. I wave at them and get up, sitting in the third row. I like to be close, but not too close. That way I have some space to ponder about wanting to participate or just keep watching.

\- Y/N. - Reggie calls. I can't say anything with so many people around, so I decide to ignore him. Mr. Ortega, the teacher, looks excited. We will start discussing the characters for the next play and he will probably comment on contributions to the story. - L/N. Darling. Cutie. - I still don't answer, but I can't help smiling. Listening to those things really feels like he's the Reggie from my dreams. - Pumpkin. Precious little nugget.

My attention remains focused on the teacher, who decides to sit on the edge of the stage. He pushes himself up with his arms and turns his torso to land correctly where he wants to. It's amazing how most of the theater people seem to express themselves naturally, as if they can float. Most of my classmates also look like this, as if they don't overthink anything. What they wear, how they speak, their hand movements; everything is fluid. It's intriguing how different people can be.

I assume I can be wrong too. Maybe the teacher thought long before he sitted there, maybe he thought about it over lunch. Maybe my classmates are nervous to answer simple questions, maybe even Carrie has her doubts about herself. People are also intriguing because you can never tell what's on their mind, how they truly feel, what's honest and what's just mean lies. 

Most days I'm fine not knowing though.

\- If you don't answer me, I'll be mean. - The teacher starts talking about our choice between a musical or an immersive play (that he sounds very excited about). - You leave me no choice, Y/N. Hey, bowl of cereal that's been sitting out for like an hour. Tiny wet socks.

He needs to stop before I start laughing while the teacher talks about his love for immersive theater. I look in his direction as if begging for him to stop, but Reggie sees it as an incentive.

I couldn't have created his personality. Not in my dreams nor in real life. Reggie is interesting, quirky and too adorable for me to have invented him. My imagination is not so fertile as to be able to come up with a person as engaging as him. But it is no comfort to know that he is a ghost, that there is no chance that my dreams could come true.

I was basically stuck on a roller coaster that I didn't want to go on. It was like I was at the top, happy to see the whole park and sad to know that I was going to fall soon. Ruthlessly, with the possibility of getting sick on the way, sure. Still there was no possibility of leaving or regretting being there. There was just the option of going forward knowing I couldn't be the same as I was before I saw the park from up there.

\- Rainy day. - He continues. I take a pen out of my backpack and flip the script over, writing a "stop it" in block letters. - Do you need to pay attention in this class?

I look at the teacher, who continues to talk excitedly about our options for the play, and write "you've got 5 minutes", to which he responds by jumping in his seat. I keep looking ahead, but pay attention to what he says, leaving my palm facing up. He sees it as an invitation and leaves his hand over mine, without touching it. Reggie begins to tell a story of when he went to a kennel and saw a puppy named Y/N and wanted to adopt the little animal, but he found out in the worst way that he was allergic. He said he didn't care. Then he told me that he liked my perfume and that it reminded him of spring. And that he missed being alive. I write a "I can't smell you; what do you smell like?", which he reads quickly. He takes his wrist up to his nose and smells it.

\- I think I smell like autumn. - He shrugs. - I'll let you pay attention now. See you with Julie later, okay? Have a good rest of the day.

Reggie leans over, like he's going to kiss me on the cheek. He did that in my dreams too many times, whenever he said hi or goodbye. It had started with a conversation about different cultures and ended with a promise to travel together - just words thrown in the wind. I remember waking up sad to know it would never happen. With him so close now, I can only hold my breath and hope he can kiss me.

\- Sorry. - He says, walking away before we can find out how his lips would feel on my skin in real life. He disappears before I can say goodbye.

I am spring, he is autumn. Opposite seasons that will never exist at the same time in the same place. Both important, intense and simply different; both loved. It's still very bittersweet that such beautiful feelings can't blossom together; because when I bloom, he dies, just like autumn leaves.

The rest of the class is focused on the choice of the play and I try my best to pay attention, but it's difficult to think of anything other than Reginald. I can only focus on something else when I am in the last class of the day and Nick sits next to me. It's math and I assume he's going to ask for help with his homework, but he starts the conversation questioning my relationship with Julie. His tone is not subtle curiosity, but more like someone who is going to ask for a favor.

\- I really just wanted to ask something about a song that I thought would be good for our next play. - I try to sound chill about it, but the way Nick looks at me makes me anxious. He's different, acting like he's playing a part I don't know about. I don't know much about him to bet on it, but I believe I am good enough at reading people to know that there is something strange about him today. - But is there anything I can help you with? I thought you were going to see her on Saturday. You did go to her house, right?

He smiles at me and a shiver runs down my spine.

\- Yes, I went to her house. I just wanted to know if you guys talked about me.

I answer a simple "no" and let my brain interpret his words and actions. His posture is too upright and there is an air of superiority in the way he moves. His body language looks different. He seems to feel like he is better than everyone and I never took Nick as pretentious. 

He starts to draw something that I don't really identify at first, but I soon recognize the tarot card number one. 

The Magician.

The man in his drawing has one arm up and the other is pointing down, representing the magician's connection between the spiritual realms and the material realms. I can only tell this is the Magician card because of the four elements Nick draws on the paper: a cup, a pentacle, a sword and a wand. It symbolizes the four elements water, earth, air and fire, meaning that the magician has it all.

Nick takes his time to draw the flowers and foliage around the magician, which makes me think that he believes that this person or feeling is very creative and clever. At least, that's the original meaning for the card. The boy also draws the infinite symbol above the head and when I think he's about to finish the drawing with the snake around the magician's waist, he stops.

It's incomplete.

The infinity symbol and the snake mean access to unlimited potential. Maybe Nick's magician doesn't feel so powerful. Maybe there's something holding him back.

\- Sneaky, huh?

His voice is firm and low. He doesn't sound mad or surprised that I was in fact watching him. He sounds superior, like he is trying to tease me.

\- Sorry.

I can't focus on the rest of the class because it seems that as much as Nick's head is turned forward, towards where the teacher is, it seems like he's paying attention to every move I make. How I hold the pen, how I breathe, how I write. It's nerve wracking.

When the class is over and Nick leaves, I think about his drawing and notice a detail that I hadn't paid attention to before. Nick's quick fingers painting the magician's robe.

It's a black robe. Nick's magician has a black robe.

It's never a black essentially, because it's supposed to be white, alluding to purity.

\- Ready to go? - Reggie's head appears on the door. I pack the rest of my things and say goodbye to the teacher. She smiles at me, not knowing I'm about to speak to the dead.

We really never know what's going on in someone's life.

I take out my phone and put it close to my ear so I can "talk" to Reggie. My classroom is in the same corridor as the chemistry lab, but at opposite extremes. Because it's a big school, we have about 5 minutes to get there, especially with the slow pace he and I take. The boy smiles and does the same as before, walking backwards in front of me, so that we can talk looking at each other. I like that he also likes to look at me.

\- Tell me some of your stories. - He asks.

Testing the waters, I tell him the same story I told a few days ago, in my dreams.

\- My mom once ordered two pizzas from different places because she had coupons. The two delivery guys arrived at our door together and one of them started singing "why can't we be friends" in a very funny way, but the other didn't like it very much. In the end I'm sure they exchanged numbers. Too much tension in the air, you know?

\- I can only imagine their faces. - Reggie replies. - But that's very smart of your mom. She sounds nice.

\- She is very cool. My dad is very funny and my older sister is… well, older. She is grumpy most of the time, but she has a good heart. Do you miss your family?

I would miss mine for sure. I only have my mother, my father and my sister; the rest of the family decided not to accept my sister's girlfriend, which made the four of us form our own independent clan. No aunt, no grandfather, no cousin. Nobody else; we could only trust ourselves. As much as holidays like Christmas could make us smile fakely and reduce our lifespan a little with boring conversations, at the end of the day it is the four of us against the world. A cruel world that did not accept my sister for who she loved, which was stupid.

\- Yeah, a little. My parents didn't love each other anymore, but they were still my parents, right? It doesn't matter that they were a couple first.

\- And they will never stop being your parents. They can split, but even now, they're still your parents, Reggie. - He smiles sadly at me. - Don't you wanna see them?

We stop for a while in the middle of the hallway. There aren't many students because most of them have already headed to the exit. I put my phone back in my pocket so I can extend my hand to him. Every contact needs to come from him, because no matter how much I focus, I can't meet him halfway. He has to go all the way by himself. He reads my intentions quickly and imitates me, holding his palm up. I can feel the pressure of his hand against mine and his timid warmth. His thumb gets between my thumb and pointing finger, almost intertwining our hands. His pinky is almost circling mine in a half hug. I stare at his eyes with love and adoration, hoping I'm interpreting right and he is indeed doing the same.

He must be focusing a lot for this to happen.

\- Would you help me find them? - He asks.

Reggie doesn't know, but with his hands on mine I'd say yes to anything and everything.

\- Of course! We'll find them.

He starts walking again and I quickly put my hand down.

\- Thank you. But now, tell me: - His smile makes me smile too. I'm glad this version of him is very happy all the time. - did it hurt?

\- Let me guess. When I fell from heaven?

\- No.

\- What?

\- Did it hurt when you fell for me?

I roll my eyes and walk faster, passing him to get to the classroom before I can say that yes, it hurted. A lot. Falling for him was oh so sweet, but also hurtful.

Loving him made me realize that distraction and destruction sound awfully alike and sometimes you don't understand which one it is. Distraction, destruction; both, none.

What started as a way to feel more excited about life and its possibilities turned into something more, something bigger that I couldn't explain. In the beginning the dreams were entertaining, interesting. Just emotions not really related to me as a person. It was more about sensations, experiences. But soon enough I was thinking about him when I got up too, not just before going to sleep.

\- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says as soon as I see her exiting the classroom. She's with Flynn, who probably knows everything by now. She smiles and waves at me. I wave back and Reggie does too, like the fool he is. - Do you want to go to my house? You can stay for dinner too, if you want.

\- I'll check with my sister. If I know her at all, she'll take me to your house and check with your dad if he's fine with everything. Is it ok?

\- Sure! - Julie answers. - Is she going to pick you up here?

\- Yeah. She'll be here any minute actually. You can text me your address and I'll meet you there.

She hands me her phone and I add my number saved under "Y/N (who's very sorry about everything)". They wave goodbye while Reggie stays by my side.

\- I'll see you in a bit, right?

He sounds unsure and I wonder if anyone would ever be stupid enough to leave him. His puppy eyes are too much for me to handle, so I start walking to the parking lot, where my sister usually waits for me. He follows me.

\- Of course. Even if my sister says no, I will text Julie and we will figure something out. - That would be the moment that I would give his hand a squeeze, just to make sure he knows I mean it. - Don't worry, okay?

\- I'm not worried. I have this feeling I'll always find you, so it's alright. - Before disappearing, he winks at me. - See you later, alligator.

I'm still smiling when I spot Daisy's car and get in. My sister looks at me with her eyes half closed, silently questioning what happened for me to be in such a good mood.

\- Okay, I have boy problems. - I say. She doesn't drive, so she can still stare at me. - Big ones.

\- Like "his dead body is too big to hide" or "you like him" problems?

\- I like him.

\- It's a shame then. I could've helped you with the other one. - She starts driving and misses the way I roll my eyes at her answer. - Why is it a problem though?

\- Oh, it's simple. He doesn't exist.

\- Too many fanfictions, huh?

\- Something like that. - I shrug. - Can you take me to a friends house? I'd like to talk to her about my boy problems.

As we drive to Julie's house, I wonder why I'd be Reggie's unfinished business and if I'll ever be able to meet him halfway, because we do share the same feeling, even though I didn't say anything to him before.

I also feel like I would always find him.

Doesn't matter when or where, I'd always find Reggie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated!!!


	3. I'm scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going on?

\- You know, I was thinking. - Reggie says as I wave my sister goodbye. She did talk to Julie's dad about having me for dinner, making sure he was okay with it, just like I knew she would do. Mr. Molina seems like a very nice person. - “I’ll always find you” sounded a bit creepy. How about “we’ll always find each other”? That way I’m not the only creepy stalker in the relationship. We can be weird together.

Reggie knows I can't reply, but I can't help but smile. He's too cute.

\- Y/N, come in! - Mr. Molina screams from the door.

Daisy goes back to her car and when I can't see her anymore due to all the plants and trees in their front yard, I walk inside. The first thing I notice is a large wooden straight staircase and a lot of different carpets on the floor. Everything is neat and in brown tones. A lot of frames are decorating the yellow walls; some are pictures and some are paintings. Everything is elegant and cool, detailed even.

\- Julie, Y/N's here! - He screams at the bottom of the sairs. He's looking up, so I'm assuming Julie's room is upstairs. Soon enough, his daughter appears and smiles at me. I like how her front teeth are separated and she doesn't wear much makeup; it makes me feel more accepted and understood somehow. - Girls, I'll be in my room working on some editing, so behave, ok? Oh, and there's some fresh strawberries in the fridge. Maybe you can make Y/N that smoothie.

He winks at Julie and goes upstairs. Meanwhile, I'm frozen, inebriated with a memory.

Fresh strawberries. That house. The open kitchen.

I've seen that place before in my dreams. With Reggie. When I was a man.

_ The cabinets were light blue and the orange chairs gave the kitchen some sort of happy vibe even though I wasn't comfortable there. A few people were sitting on the counter, close to the big fridge, holding cups. The strangers were flirting, kissing and singing with the loud music that was playing. Overwhelmed, I looked for Reggie. _

_ It was the same house. The floor was covered in white porcelain tiles and there was a big leather couch where Julie's dinner table was, but I knew it was the same place. _

\- Are you ok? - Julie asks me.

Her dad is gone and suddenly I feel inadequate. I have to focus on breathing normally while trying to remember more details. Everybody is connected somehow, I know, and maybe recalling a conversation or recognizing something could help Reggie and the boys.

\- I need to explain my connection with Reggie. - I whisper. My voice is shaky and she looks worried. Reggie tries to hold my hand and fails, making me smile softly at him. It's nice to know he is around, somehow. - I've been here before, in my dreams. It's… are the boys here as well?

_ I look around just for a moment, taking in more details. The curtains in the dream house were beige. There were a lot of plants around and a few picture frames in the living room. I can't quite see the faces in the photos, but it's a family of three in front of a Christmas tree. There's too many people around me and it's overwhelming. _

I sit on the floor and Julie follows me. Closing my eyes, I try getting back to that dream just in time to recall Reggie touching my shoulder and saying "there's some fresh strawberries in the fridge; you said you like it so I bought you some".

_ He looks shy for a moment and I can't help but stare at his eyes in awe. I don't feel very relaxed at the party and Reggie picks up on the way I play with my fingers in agitation and look away, trying to see if we can go out. He takes my hand and soon we're at the back of the house, in a big garage with a lot of instruments. _

_ \- Thanks for coming. I know you're not a huge fan of parties, but I'm glad you're here. It wouldn't be the same without you. _

_ His stare is too much for me to handle, so I walk around the place, looking attentively at the instruments. The drums and a guitar are inviting to the touch, but I hold back. Even though we are alone, it's like being with him is wrong so I act like I'm walking on eggshells. Feels right liking him, but it's wrong; it's a fight that I know my head will win and my heart will be devastated. _

_ \- I came here to say that I… - I start, not looking at him. He's too pure and I'm too weak. The music is still playing in the background and we can hear a lot of screams and laughs coming from the house. - that we can't do this. _

_ Reggie looks offended. _

_ \- Do what? _

_ \- This. You and I. - I replied, turning to face him. He looks perplexed. Did I misread the signs? - My parents would kill me. _

_ I can cut the tension with a knife. However, I don't have to try because Reginald is doing that for us by putting a mask on and looking frustrated. He opens his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify or explain himself. _

_ \- Ethan, what are you talking about? - He asks, with a scoff. I don't recognize that reaction on his face. It's like he's trying too hard to play a part he doesn't even want to. - We're friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke. _

_ He bought me strawberries as a joke. _

_ He held my hand and called me pet names for the laugh. _

_ He was pretending when I thought he felt something more. _

_ \- I'm sorry. - I said, staring at some papers on the floor. Probably unfinished lyrics. A notebook is open with the name Emily on the top of the page and then it hits me: he could never love me the way I loved him. I was the weird one; I was wrong. - I have to go. _

\- Y/N. - Julie touches my arm, making me open my eyes. - Tell me what is going on.

She's fairly calm. Reggie, however, looks like he's about to scream.

\- They are here, right? - I inquire and Julie nods in response. - I've been having dreams about Reggie for a year now. The first five dreams or so were different. I was a man and he was… himself. But things were different somehow, not just me. The world was not the same. The last dream I had before meeting him as me, a girl, I was at this house. Again: this was not your place. The decoration was totally different and people were dressed like they were in the 90's. He said his bandmate was throwing a party since his parents weren't home and that I should come. I actually did and he said he didn't like me because I was a guy. So I left and the next thing I know I'm me and he's asking for help, saying he needs me. At first I thought he changed his mind, cause we were going on dates, talking about the future, laughing and just enjoying everything together. In my dreams, of course. Now I just... it felt like different lifetimes, to be honest. And I liked him in both.

\- Alex is asking when was the first time you two met. - Julie says.

\- I don't know the date, but it was at a book club. He said they were going to play there, but they mostly ate. And one of his friends was super engaged with the people there, listening to them talk about literature and life. I can't remember their faces very well. I just remember one was brunette and the other was blond, just like your band, Julie.

\- Luke asked when was the last time you had a dream about me. - It's Reginald's turn to be his friends' messenger.

\- Thursday night. Reggie said something about having to go, not knowing how to stay. It was very emotional. - I answer. - But a friend of mine sent me a video of your concert on Friday night. She was at the Orpheum and she said you were great. I just couldn't stop looking at you and wondering if I'm insane. Am I crazy, Reggie?

\- If you are crazy, so am I. - Julie declares when the boy next to me doesn't say anything. It's too much to take in. The three of us are still sitting on the floor and the silence is loud. Loud because it means a lot; that we're all confused. - Alex, wait.

\- What? - I ask.

\- Alex stormed off. He asked us to come to the garage.

Reggie beams, looking ashamed, and we go to the place I've seen before in my dreams. The garage/studio has chairs in the ceiling and a lot of plants, along with a beautiful piano and a bigger window. Beside me, Julie seems nervous and suddenly two good-looking boys appear in front of me, playing the guitar and the drums.

The brunette and the blond that I didn't recognize before are playing loudly, staring at me with indecipherable expressions and furrowed eyebrows.

\- This is the only way you can see us, when we're playing. - The drummer screams. - I'm Alex and this is Luke. - In cue, Luke smiles a little. He is definitely the one that enjoyed metaphors in my dream. - Do you remember anything else about the book club?

\- Why? - Luke inquires.

\- Just sush. - He says.

\- Anything like what?

\- Like the address.

Luke looks at Alex like he just said the biggest nonsense he has ever heard. Reggie is standing next to me, speechless. I can tell he's conflicted, so I don't push. I'm confused as well, trying to focus on the first dream, realizing that the details are not very clear anymore; all I can recall is Reggie being adorable and my feelings all over the place. I remember walking around the house unpretentiously with him, thinking about his features and his personality.

\- I don't know. - I state.

\- Do you think this is about your unfinished business too? - It's Julie's turn to make questions. - The book club? Y/N? What is going on? After Friday I figured we would stay together, but now you're actually considering going back out there?

I have no idea what she is talking about. I just feel like I'm intruding and should just let go, pretending that Reggie is just imaginary. I don't think I'll dream about him again, so I could always just do like the night I said "I have to go" and leave again.

Nobody really talks about leaving. Songs are written about being left, books tell the story of the ones who leave, movies focus on the girl moving on after getting dumped. It's never about the villain, the person who decides to leave because it's too overwhelming, too much to handle. Nobody talks about how hard it is to live with the weight of the decision to go away - it's always focussed on the consequences, not the responsibility of leaving.

\- I wanna know. - Reginald says. - I think I need to know.

\- And I think I remember the address. - Luke sounds serious. He is still playing just like Alex (who looks tired), but keeps trying his best to continue. - Do you think your dad can take you to Echo Park right now?

The car ride is a bit awkward. Julie is sitting in the front with her dad, that doesn't question when she asks to go to the park. She justifies with a simple "we want to see this house for our drawing class, so we can get some inspiration" that he answers with a smile and a "let's go". Luke and Alex teleport, while Reggie stays behind to accompany me.

\- I'm trying to remember that day, I promise. The day we met. - His voice is low and I feel an urge to hug him. - There's something here - He points at his head. - about the party, but I just remember feeling bad for lying about something, then Luke said we should play and that's pretty much it. What does it even mean? How can you dream about that? Are you a ghost too? Ok, just ignore that last question. But how? Why? What is happening?

\- You know, Y/N, I really think that friend of ours should just learn how to teleport, right? - Julie says, turning her head around and looking at Reggie. He apologies and disappears.

The rest of the way is basically Mr. Molina asking about school and making me feel at ease. He is kind and bright, which makes me wonder about Julie's mom. Was she as bright? Or maybe more quiet and calm? Collected maybe? The way her dad talks about Carlos, Julie's brother, makes me think that they're doing alright, that they are healing. Julie engages a little more when he talks about the concert and when the cars slows down close the address Luke gave us, my heart is going wild.

\- This is the house, right? - Mr. Molina asks.

It is. Luke is right; that's the friendly two-story white house that works as a cultural center. Big windows, big porch. There's a few flowers and a swig, but the rest is just like I remember. Looks like there's a small gathering going on and I can see some people in the front yard, talking and drinking what looks like orange juice. A "Hope Cultural Center" sign greets people with a smiley face and blue letters close to the door too.

\- Yep, that's it.

\- Dad, do you wanna go park somewhere? We'll take some pictures and wait for you here. Maybe go inside a little? Our friend said they have book clubs, so maybe there's some expositions and stuff like that too.

\- Sure! I'll be right back.

Julie and I get out of the car and find Reggie sitting on the sidewalk, observing the house attentively. I assume the boys are with him as well.

\- Should we go inside? Just to check it out? - I can't recognize my own voice. It doesn't sound like the same person that was contemplating running away. I sound excited. - What do you think?

Both of them nod and we take the few steps that separates us from the gates. It's open and everybody looks very friendly, so we go on, holding onto the "Hope" sign. Hoping we can discover something important, any information that can help us. I wouldn't say out loud, but I could add "life changing" to that list as well.

\- Oh, hello there! - An old lady says. Her voice is almost like summer days and cotton candy. - I've never seen your faces around here. 

\- Yeah, we were just passing by and…

\- Welcome then, my dears. We're happy to have you with us today. - Her smile melts my heart. It could be her fluffy hair or the wrinkles in her eyes; perhaps everything about her screams "I'm a nice person". - We're celebrating our 30th anniversary! There's some expositions on the second floor, food in the kitchen area, back there, - She points somewhere like we know the place already and that makes me feel warm. - and music in the backyard too. Help yourself and if you need anything, let me know, ok?

\- She is so nice. - Reggie says, smiling too. - So, what are we looking for? - When everybody stays quiet, I feel panic rising in my chest.

\- Y/N, I'll stay here to wait for my dad. You go ahead and look around, see if you remember anything. The boys will do the same. - She looks around and I assume she is making sure they know what to do. - I'll text you when my dad gets here.

As I take the first step further away from her, the panic intensifies. I have to put it aside so I can focus and try to find anything that's remotely relevant.

I find myself going to the backyard, amused that everything looks so similar to my dream. The grass is greener, the fence is now brown, yet I can almost see Reggie and his friends standing at the same place.

There's only one girl out there sitting with a guitar in a small stage made with wood pallets, seeming nervous. I take one last look around before heading upstairs. Reggie is by the kitchen and Julie is probably still at the door, so I find the stairs and take in all the frames by the wall. Some are poems, some are drawings and everything is beautiful, soulfull.

When I get to the actual exposition, I find a photo that grabs my attention.

It's a group picture with at least 6 people. The date says it's 1995 and everybody has a book in their hand and a silly look on their face, apparently happy to be there. Probably the old lady knows who they are, but I don't see her around, so I just continue my quest for the unknown.

That is until I recognize Alex in another frame that also dates 1995. 

He is holding a paper that says "best poem" and I feel goosebumps all over my arms. My throat closes.

They are really dead. Reggie is really dead.

Death took him away from me and I feel so selfish for feeling sad about it: I feel sad because I can't be with him anymore. My first thought is that it's disappointing loving someone so impossible like him. The second is "he was so young and had so many dreams… why?". Questioning death and all its mystery is probably normal, still I hate the feeling of not knowing more. Why is he a ghost? Why so early? Why him? Would I ever forget him completely?

Life really is just a competition to see how long we can stay alive and well, tricking death. Death really is just about the living grieving because their love has no place to go.

These people probably don't even know about Reggie, Alex and Luke. When they see the picture, they might think Alex is probably old, married and maybe doing something boring. Maybe they don't even suppose anything about him like it's not relevant, not worth it.

It's impossible not to notice the bitter sensation in my mouth. I guess it's something like frustration or the weight of everything coming back to me after the insane day I had.

\- That's Alex. - Reggie's voice scares me and I jump a little. He's examining the picture carefully. - I don't remember being here, to be honest. No matter how hard I try.

\- Alex and his friends were the living proof that you can always try harder. - I hear someone's voice. When I look around, the old lady is standing next to me.

I can't bring myself to say anything. My whole body is tired and my thoughts are not clear anymore. All I can do is keep all my attention on that picture and hope I can go home soon.

\- They were great. - She continues, not minding Reggie. The lady can't see him. - They were in a band called Sunset Curve. My best friend is this guy's mom. - She points at the cheerful Alex immortalized in the photo. - Alex and his friends died that year and she was devastated. Everybody was. I've heard that one of the boys' parents searched the whole town for him before knowing about his death. Apparently they weren't on good terms.

She is talking about Luke, making me feel like an intruder. Again.

\- Do you still talk to his mom? - I continue my way through the expositions while she follows me around. It's a timeline with different occasions, different people. Everybody is joyful and in bright colors, always doing something in a group, sustaining the idea that everything is better when you're surrounded by nice people. - Is she alright?

\- Oh, yes, darling, she is. His parents opened a coffee shop downtown. They've been involved in a lot of projects, volunteering to help the community. A few years back they decided to focus on kids and I think they found their purpose in life again with that. Let me show you something.

Her hand flies to meet mine and I feel positive energy running through us. She is very vivid, which is a great match with her colorful clothes. She's wearing green pants, a pink shirt and orange shoes. Her smile is decorated with red lipstick, contrasting with a few missed teeth. It's inevitable to like her and her unique way of dressing and expressing herself.

\- Here. - We stop in 2018. The walls are white so the colors scream, begging for attention. - This was two years ago. Lisa and her husband, Jarred, Alex's parents, made a project to help kids and teenagers with music. They had workshops, competitions, small concerts at their cafe. It was amazing. They actually found...

She is pointing at a few pictures where kids are playing instruments, wearing wigs and a lot of glitter. They all look delighted and excited and I can almost see the spark in their eyes. At the top, on the left side, I see something that makes me stop in my tracks, feeling dizzy. She shouldn't be wearing nice shoes, considering I might throw up at any moment.

\- Y/N. - Reggie calls. He probably sees the same thing I'm seeing.

It can't be. I wanna go home.

I can't be there anymore.

\- There you are. - Julie screams. My body is so stiff I can't turn around. - Y/N? What are you guys doing?

\- I was just showing her this picture. - She doesn't notice the way my mind is about to explode and continues. - It was back in 2018. These two boys were awesome and even covered Sunset Curve a few times. I think their names were Luke and Reggie, if I'm not mistaken. They haven't been around in a while. Jarred said they look just like Alex's bandmates, but this one - She points at Luke. - was an orphan and was kind of a troublemaker. And this one - It's Reggie's turn. - was having problems at school. They just assumed they didn't want to come to the workshops anymore. But my point is: his parents found their peace with their son's death. They managed to make something beautiful and honor Alex's name. It's all that matters, right? We can't change the fact that they died. All we can do is decide how we're going to use their influence in your lives.

Julie is probably just as confused as I am. I hear an "excuse me for a second" and suddenly she is gone. I miss her colors and being oblivious to that information. That Reggie and Luke were alive two years ago.

\- What is going on?

I can clearly see Reggie and Luke playing at a small stage, sharing a microphone. They look so connected and carefree. The quality of the picture is so good that I can't even question the date; there's no way that was taken before 1995.

Alex is nowhere to be seen in that photo.

\- We need to find them, Y/N. We need to know who they are, why they're pretending to be Reggie and Luke and... what is going on?

\- Guys. - Reggie is still staring at the picture like his life depended on it. - Guys. I… I think I remember this. This place. Luke, you remember too right?

It's the first time I see Reggie so unstable. He's not making jokes to hide his feelings; he is genuinely confused and afraid, like all of us. I feel like this is the first time I see him and it's scary. Not being able to help, frustrated that I can't stop the wave of uncertainty and fear that he's experiencing. 

Luke's answer is not audible to me. Reggie is saying something yet I can't hear him because I'm busy engulfed in hesitation. Should I give them privacy and go home? Should I ask around about the coffee shop? Should I stay quiet?

\- I'm confused too. Maybe we should call it a day and just go home for now. We can come back another time. - Julie speaks. - Come on, Y/N. My dad is waiting outside.

I ask Mr. Molina to take me home, with the excuse that I don't feel good. It's not really a lie. He is very polite and says I should come back another time so we can all have hot dogs together. Julie agrees and I wonder if we'll be friends. I hope so.

When I get to my room, my mind runs to the picture. It's so clear, so confusing and so aggravating. We're getting played by faith, destiny or the universe; some unknown force with strong powers to make people sick to their stomach. Their goal might be to drive people crazy. Who knows? Surely not me.

I eat dinner with my family, finish my homework, take a shower and read a little while listening to some music. When it's almost nine, I hear a knock on my door.

\- Come in.

My eyes are playing tricks on me. Reggie is standing there, with his hands in his pockets and red eyes.

I stand up, not minding my bunny pajamas. He doesn't seem to mind either.

\- Nice candles. - There he is, the same flirty Reggie. I relax and he steps closer to me. His gaze is so intense and I want to cry. - Look at you being romantic.

\- This was actually me trying to summon you, but alright. - I reply and he laughs. It's not genuine. - How are you?

It's ironic how my playlist is called "slow dancing in my room". Soon enough, Reggie shows me his palms, as if inviting me for a dance. Not going all the way and trying to touch him, I smile weakly and almost wince with the urge to hold his hand. We sway and keep our eyes on each other.

\- I'm sad. - That's new. He's never this transparent. - I don't understand what is going on. I remember that day with Luke. At least I think I do. I don't know what's real and what's just my mind desperate to be alive again. I thought just playing with Julie was enough, but…

He doesn't finish. The song ends and we keep dancing slowly, letting our eyes talk for a moment. I can notice the pain, the sadness and the urge in his face. It breaks my heart.

\- What do you wanna do now?

He tries touching my hand and misses it. His eyes scan my room, probably running away from me and my questioning eyes.

\- I wanna know everything, but Alex is not taking it well. He's not very good with changes.

I nod and turn my head a little, demanding his attention on me again.

\- Take your time, ok? Talk to them about it, make a list on why you should and shouldn't go to that cafe and... I don't know, - We're still dancing and I'm still crushed, but at least being with him calms my heart. - breathe. Just breathe. Everything will be alright.

\- How can you be so positive right now?

\- Well, if people can be negative for no reason, I can be positive for no reason too. - I shrug and he sighs. - Scratch that. I do have a reason.

Reggie gets closer and I can almost feel his nose touching mine.

\- What is it? - His voice is just above a whisper.

\- I want that to be true. I want you to be happy and well. I want you to feel loved too. That's exactly what you deserve, Reggie. Happiness. Love.

Before I can say anything else, he steps back and says goodnight. My chest hurts and when I wake up in the morning with a text from Julie saying "let's go to that cafe today", I don't feel happy. Or loved.

I'm just scared.

  
  



	4. Keep singing, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> look who is back :) I wanna thank nate for being so sweet to me and giving me such a thoughtful feedback about the story. that gave me the motivation I needed to keep writing - so keep in mind that comments help the writer, ok? just hope I’m not disappointing anyone with this chapter by the way… and sorry again for taking forever to update.

As soon as the last class of the day ends, I make my way to Julie's locker so we can go to the cafe together. I haven't seen Reggie all day, but something tells me he's just as nervous as I am. Waiting for her, alone, I let my mind go to him, remembering his sweet smile.

There's something about him that gives me peace. It's not explainable or rational; it's just there. An invisible feeling that makes me ecstatic, blissful because he exists. And if that's not love, if it's something else, I can accept and live with it knowing that he taught me how to feel visible, alive.

Ironically, he is none of those things.

\- Y/N, hi! - Nick's voice greets me. - How are you?

Nick is alone too. His blue eyes are darker than usual and his aura makes me shiver - more so than yesterday, his presence is heavy and disturbing. And I can't understand why. His clothes are darker than usual and even his cute freckles look more aggressive, if that's possible.

Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can almost swear I see the own devil in the smile on his face. His whole body looks stiffer and more brutal, making me step back mindlessly and look around for somebody that could confirm that his eyes are actually trying to hurt me.

I'm out of my mind, for sure.

\- Hey, Nick. - I say. My voice is breathy and low, matching my demeanor. - I'm alright. How about you?

I don't really wanna know about him and it's borderline annoying how my body is responding to the situation. My hands are shaking so much I have to hide them in my pockets. When my eyes start watering, I understand just how terrible the situation really is.

\- Why are you so afraid of me, hum? - There's an eerie glow in his eyes that can only be described as demonic. Nick is following my every move, almost like he is trying to control my actions or read my mind. When he gets closer to me and lets his thumb meet my right cheek, a single tear rolls down, to what he smiles. He's enjoying the situation. - It's just me.

It's not him. It's not Nick.

I don't know what is going on, but this person is evil.

I can smell Nick's breath and see it too. It's purple and dense and I'm for sure out of my mind, because I can see it all around us as if trying to suffocate me.

The purple mist swirls around my head and vanishes quickly while my tears dry. Nick's smile disappears and his stare holds something heavy like betrayal. He looks disappointed, annoyed, angry, all together.

\- I can't believe this. - He murmurs, stepping back. The boy is imitating a lost puppy or a spoiled kid that isn't getting what he wants. - Your soul is…

Nick looks so shocked and that gives me strength. The sudden vigor allows me to break our eye contact and recompose myself, just in time to blink and get an image in my head like a daydream. But it wasn't a dream or my imagination; it feels like a memory, just like what I experience with Reggie.

_ I see a big stage. The curtains are embroidered with CC's and everything is either black or gold. There's a tall man standing in the center, with the same aura as Nick, and the same expressive eyes. He's screaming for attention and validation. _

_ The man is wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. I can tell he's narcissistic and have some kind of power over people, because nobody around the place is looking directly at him. They all look scared and conflicted; probably because he demands attention but makes them feel bad about it. _

_ Someone opens the curtain a little bit more and I can see a big glass box filled with water. Three assistants wrap his hands and feet with chains and when he sees me staring, a devious grin spreads across his face, making me shiver and get an urge to run. _

I manage to do that, going back to the school halls in real life, ignoring all that happened in my mind just seconds before.

Nick is nowhere to be seen and my body is not shaking anymore.

\- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says. Flynn smiles at me and I try my best to do the same, but I'm still overwhelmed by the feeling of being controlled. - Are you alright? Not to be that person, but you look like you've seen a ghost.

Flynn laughs while her friend winks at me, lighting up the mood. Still, I can't wrap my head around what just happened. I feel sick to my stomach, dizzy and they probably can see it in my face that I'm not fine.

\- Don't know if Reggie said anything to you, but they talked and Alex doesn't feel ready to go to the coffee shop yet. He's afraid that they're going to move on and disappear and he's not sure if that's what he wants now. - She explains. Flynn nods her head the whole time, agreeing with everything Julie says and making me wonder how much she knows. Probably everything. - But, really, are you feeling ok?

\- I think I just need to go home and sleep a bit. - After trying my best to assure them I'll be fine, I start making my way to the parking lot. We're not the best of friends, so I don't feel comfortable explaining anything, especially when Reggie's nowhere to be seen. - I'll see you tomorrow, ok?

I can't find my sister's car when I get to our usual spot, so I just stand there, calming my senses and looking at the sky. It's a beautiful day with a few clouds and it's impossible not to find solace in the pretty blue infinity.

The clouds are moving in all its glory. The cumulus clouds are very fluffy and not very high in the sky, letting me notice their cotton-like appearance distinctly. It's so peaceful that I can't stop my mind from wandering to Reggie and that same feeling of harmony and happiness that he makes me feel.

\- Julie told me you were not feeling well. - The boy startles me, making me jump and almost scream. - Did you fall? Did you eat something bad? Maybe you should go to the hospital. I should know that considering I died from a bad hot dog. What did you have?

His wide eyes and fast words make me laugh, forgetting everything that happened previously. He tries to touch my hand and signs when that doesn't happen. I do the same, regretting momentarily the day I met him.

I know I love Reggie. That feeling, however, is like getting tickled and laughing out loud. For someone just passing by, it might look like we're having fun, but it's also painful and excruciating. A smile doesn't necessarily means joy; sometimes it's just a mechanism to stay positive. And positivity is very important when the person you love is a ghost.

\- I'm alright now, don't worry. - In cue, Daisy arrives. - Wanna go home with me? - I ask, covering my mouth with my hand, pretending to yawn. He follows me without answering and the way Day looks at me as soon as I get inside tells me that she believes her little sister is simply happy with the tickling. - Hey.

\- Well, well, well. Look who is in love.

Reggie sits in the backseat and it's inevitable to feel nervous. It doesn't really matter that Day can't see him; the only important thing is that we haven't talked about feelings yet and now he knows how I feel.

He knows what I feel: love.

Suddenly I am drowning in dichotomy, a bipolar feeling of relief and nervousness. 

I am relieved that the "decision" is no longer in my hands.

It's like that child's game, hot potato. The ball would pass in a circle and if the song ends and you are holding the object, the responsibility to run after someone is in your hands. Every time I held the ball as a kid, I felt excitement, anxiety and nervousness and yet I still enjoyed playing the game, even with the risk of losing. 

Reggie knowing how I feel is basically that same feeling of not knowing whether I would have to run or be disappointed and relieved at the same time for not being chosen. The next step is his to take; to either stop the music or continue singing.

\- Sis? - Daisy's voice brings me back to the car and all the consequences. - Are you ok?

\- Yeah, yeah. Just a bit nervous about some school stuff.

I met Reggie in school, so it's not exactly a lie. Josh's voice rings in my head saying "I ain't calling you a truther" and making me wish I could tell everybody about how I met Reginald and how much I like him.

\- We went from love interest to school project. Y/N, we really need to talk. - Reggie's remarks make me roll my eyes. - What am I to you? And you don't need to be nervous, darling. It's just me.

_ It's just me. _

Same words that left Nick's lips.

I feel shivers running down my spine, remembering everything. His gaze, the strong perfume and my own thoughts all over the place. What about my soul? What about me that scared him so much? And that stage? The magician?

Too many questions for someone that just wanted a few answers.

\- Reggie, please, we'll talk later.

Oh, no.

Daisy is looking at me like I am crazy and she's possibly right. There's no way I am not losing my mind by now.

\- Who is Reggie?

Oh, no.

\- Reggie?

\- Yeah, you just said his name. Is this part of your school thingy? - She bounces like a little kid, making me breathe normally. She's not about to ask if I lost my mind, great. - Practicing some of those insanely creative theatre games? How does this one work?

Oh, yes.

\- I have to create this character, right? - Reggie scoots closer to listen to my explanation, sitting on the edge of the seat. I can see him through the rearview mirror and he has a curious expression on his face. A very cute expression that makes me smile. - For the whole day I have to talk to him, Reggie, like he really exists. - Daisy beams and that gives me courage to continue. - I get extra points if I get to make somebody else speak and interact with him, so do you wanna try?

I really ain't a truther.

The thing with my family is that they are incredibly supportive, especially Daisy and my dad. My sister's bad temper is not even half as intense as her supportive-big-sister-mode. Probably because of that that I don't have many friends - because it is very easy to get lost in my family's love. They make me feel like I don't really need other people, like nobody else would be as important as them, so why try? I've always had friends here and there, but opening up and trusting is a whole different story.

Maybe that's why Reggie had such an impact on me; because he made me realize that the world is bigger than my little bubble, than what meets the eye.

\- I need to know a little more about this Reggie dude. Characteristics, please.

\- Reggie, what do you want me to tell her? - I look at him, turning my head to face his way and the view makes my heart melt: he's staring at us with thankful eyes.

The boy is on the verge of tears. Happy tears, apparently. It feels so heartwarming to see his big white smile and his freckles from up close.

\- I… I don't know. What do you want her to know about me?

\- Well, Day is more than just my sister. - I reply while Daisy just smiles, keeping her attention on the road. - She's my best friend, so I'd like her to know everything about you. I know she'll like you anyways cause you're both sweethearts. You two like Star Wars and she says she hates puns, but that's a lie. And you're always making jokes and being adorable, so that's a start, right? You'll get along just fine.

\- What about appearance-wise? Is he cute? - My sister's question has Reggie laughing and blushing. Their interaction is so cute and the tears on Reggie's eyes say the same.

\- He has deep blue eyes, a pointy nose and some freckles that look like the galaxy. For all I know he could have the whole bear keeper constellation on his face, I swear. - The way he observes me speaking foolishly about him is encouraging and sweet. He seems to be admiring me too, intrigued by the way I describe his features.

\- Bear keeper constellation, hum? He should watch out for poisoning then.

My sister giggles scares the hell out of me and by Reggie's silence and wide eyes, he's panicking too.

\- What? - I mumble.

\- Icarius? The wine story? - She tries explaining, but seeing my confused semblance, she continues. - Icarius died because some people thought he poisoned them with wine. They didn't understand alcohol back then and well, he died for nothing. Poor guy. After all, a god really did trust him with the wonders of wine because he was such a great person and he basically died for that. For being too good. - She shrugs like it's nothing, like I am not surprised and startled by the coincidence. I never heard that story in my life. - But what else? I wanna know more about him.

Reggie shakes his head and closes his mouth, blinking a few times in the process. I take my time to study him once again, ignoring my own surprise.

\- He's funny, positive, loves animals and can be a bit of an airhead, but that's cause he's very creative and imaginative. He is a bassist, likes flirting and I'd say he uses jokes as a way to cope with sadness.

I can't look at him while saying those things, so I fix my posture and stare at the car in front of us. It's too personal and I don't know how he truly feels about me and the way I read him. After all, I officially met him yesterday and every single dream could be wrong. My version of him could be wrong.

I could only hope I was right and he would keep singing in that silent game of hot potato.

\- The only important question left is: what's his Harry Potter house?

And that's how we spend the rest of the day watching Harry Potter, with Reggie sitting beside me with his eyes glued to the tv screen. When Chamber of Secrets ends, my parents get home and Day quickly explains that we'll be having company for dinner. Reggie doesn't leave my side for a second and even though I could speak to him when my sister was around, my parents might think differently, so I don't really hold my breath.

\- We have company for dinner, dad. - Daisy says.

\- Oh, really? - My dad asks. He's already in the kitchen, so we follow him there. Reggie sits on the counter while Day helps with the food and I just stand by the door, looking at my family. - Who is coming?

Daisy does something funny with her eyebrows, teasing me, and I roll my eyes, because that's very rich coming from her. Reggie is silent, just studying our reactions and conversations, so I decide to imitate him, sitting by his side. I want him to feel included in the family, like he belongs there, like he is welcome in our house.

\- Dad, this is my friend Reginald, but you can call him Reggie. - I say, pointing at the boy next to me. I know they can't see him; it would be impossible considering he is dead. Reggie's eyes, however, beg for love and appreciation, so I don't mind making a fool of myself if that means I get to make him feel comfortable. - He'll be eating dinner with us tonight, if that's alright.

\- Well, sure. - My father answers, with a smile on his face and no second thoughts whatsoever. - We're happy to have you here, Reggie.

Daisy winks at me and Reggie is astonished with my dad's answer, especially because he really is looking and speaking in his direction, to the place I pointed. That probably makes him feel alive, but I don't really have time to say anything else because soon enough my dad walks up to him and goes for a handshake. My dad doesn't wait for Reggie's hand to shake it, but the boy doesn't mind and lets his transparent skin go through my dad's solid body, trying any kind of connection he can.

\- Cold hands, hum? But are you really just friends with my daughter? Cause I don't recall any friends staying for dinner before.

It's not really a surprise that my father would participate in any kind of experiment, project or whatever he thinks this is; his trust and love for me are the only irrational part of him and he is very good at that - trusting me with his eyes closed. As Daisy explains everything to him, his tired figure just keeps cooking dinner and making a few questions here and there. He starts with the basic "how was your day?" and moves on to "bassist that loves country music? That's new. I would like to listen to your music, Reggie".

He's not weirded out by the situation and that makes me wonder if I should tell him the truth. Or at least half of it. Maybe he wouldn't understand everything, but at least I'd feel lighter. When he starts telling us the positive stories that he's seen in the hospital today, Reggie interrupts his monologue by leaving the kitchen, so I follow him.

\- What's wrong? - I ask, indicating my room. He goes in and I close the door. - Is everything okay?

He doesn't answer for a moment. He just stands there, looking out the window. His torso is covered in the same black leather jacket that I've seen so many times before in my dreams and his hair looks perfect. He looks perfect. Even when he sniffs and starts crying.

He looks perfect and I'm freaking out.

\- I am so sorry for today, Reggie. It was never my intention to make you feel bad, I swear. That doesn't mean you shouldn't feel whatever you're feeling; I'm just justifying myself really. - I start mumbling, letting the words come out of my mouth with no filter. - You don't have to stay, if you don't want to. You can leave and we can talk tomorrow... I don't know.

He's not singing in our game of hot potato. Reggie's sad and it's painful to see him like that, crying, perhaps even regretful. After the heavy day, I can't stop myself from crying too, feeling unwanted, wrong.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts for him, almost like we share the same body.

\- I forgot how much I missed being alive. - He says, letting his fingers roam his cheeks, cleaning any signs of tears. - It's not just about dying young, you know? It's like ordering a pizza that you know will never arrive, but you still don't order another one. You just keep waiting and waiting. And you can almost taste it; the cheese, the smell, the love in the shape of pepperoni… but it's still not enough. Being a ghost is not enough for me, Y/N. I need to make my own pizza or order something else.

A glimpse of determination in Reggie's eyes makes me feel uneasy. If Alex said he didn't want to find out, "ordering something else" is off limits. Going alone to the cafe looking for answers could mess their friendship and hurt all of them even more.

\- Are you sure you can't wait a little bit more? We can wait together, if it helps. - My reasoning is not the best in the world; I am basically bargaining more time with him. - We can finish Harry Potter, I can show you some music. And, of course, you still have Julie and your friends, right? Maybe the pizza will arrive, Reggie. Have a little faith.

He opens his mouth a few times, trying to say something, but nothing comes out. He shrugs and turns around, staring at the window again. Outside, the weather is the same and everything looks peaceful. But inside of him, things are different. His world is not the same as it was when he entered my house.

He wants answers now.

\- What kind of music do you wanna show me?

His smile is not reaching his eyes, but I take whatever I can get, grabbing my phone quickly and playing Taylor Swift. He falls in love with her banjo songs, like I knew he would, and then shows me some of his favorite musicians. We talk about movies and he's impressed to know that Back To The Future is a classic, considering that none of his friends liked it back then.

It's so easy to talk to him. His overflowing attention and care is noticeable and heartwarming. It's not like he's just answering me, no, he's making conversation, showing interest and curiosity about me, about the things I like. And I do the same with him, because I wanna know everything there is to know, everything he wants me to know and love.

With him so close to me it's very easy to forget he's not alive.

\- You know what I was thinking? - He asks with his face so close to mine that I can even count his freckles.

\- No. - I whisper and he chuckles. - What is it?

\- I really wish they could see me. Your family. They are so nice. I really wish my unfinished business involved them too so they could see me. - Reggie sounds sad again, so put my hand on his knee, not really touching him. We're sitting on the floor, with our backs resting on the wall and our legs close to our chests, looking like two lost kids. - At least I've got you.

\- Your parents probably miss you too, you know? Don't you think we should look for them? Do you think it would help?

\- I am not sure anymore. I think I want to know, but at the same time what if I get disappointed? What if they don't care about me anymore? Don't think about me at all? Or what if they do? What if they can't move on? - He touches my hand softly and I can tell he has to focus a lot for that to happen. - It's also scary to see what they've become. To see what my future could've been.

He doesn't say anything else after that. His thumb tries stroking my skin and it takes a while until he finally succeeds. My heart is about to get out of my chest and I stay still, afraid that he'll run away like he did the night before.

\- You are not your parents, Reggie, just as I am not mine. As much as they are responsible for us to some extent, it's not as if we are a property being marked by our last name. Our family is not our whole world; if anything, they're the cheerleaders who stand outside the field cheering for us. Well, - I feel his gentle touch more prominently so I turn my gaze to our connected hands. - at least it should be like that. But anyway, I'm very proud of you. You are a beautiful, loved human being with an incredible capacity to love others. Alive or dead, you're full of life and that's amazing.

I don't want to extend the topic too much, just in case he's not ready for it, but I know that our parents also lost individual characteristics when they became parents. They didn't have their own names anymore; they were "my father" and "my mother". It seemed that they were less their own and more ours, as if their value was linked to their children in some way.

\- I… thank you. - Suddenly I can't feel his touch anymore. Disappointed, we stand up at the same time and again, we're so close I can memorize the exact shape of his lips. - You have no idea how much I… I needed this. Needed you. How much I need you. I'm happy we found each other, Y/N. I really am.

\- Me too, Reggie. I just wish our timing was a bit better, you know?

\- Yeah… I mean, the world is so old, right? At least we got some time here together. Let's just enjoy it from now on. Like it's now or never. - He smiles brightly again and I imitate him. - That's one of our songs, by the way. You need to hear -

The doorbell startles us. Reggie and I laugh at our own reactions and I go get the door. When I open it, Nick is there, with arrogant eyes and an infuriating smile.

\- Hey, Y/N. - He says. - I think we need to talk. Now.

\- Honey, who is this? - My mother asks me. Just like Daisy, she has that pretentious grin that tells me she thinks we're more than friends. - Is this Reggie that your dad was telling me about? Come in, sweetheart. Dinner is almost ready.

Mom runs to the kitchen, probably to tell the others about the news, and I'm scared again. If looks could kill, I'd be just like Reggie now.

\- Oh, so Reggie is here too? Good, that way we can kill two birds with one stone. - Reggie comes to the rescue, but he looks just as conflicted and confused as me. - And just so you know, you're one of the birds, Y/N, and I won't let you escape again.

\- What is this little dude talking about? - Reggie asks.

Nick's head turns to Reggie's direction and I feel sick again. It's hard to breathe and the purple mist coming out of the blonde's mouth is scarier than before. He's standing at my door, invading my house and threatening me. Everything is too much, my own body, my own thoughts and the house feels smaller and smaller.

\- I am talking about you, your friends and this rat right here. I've been looking for you for two lifetimes already and I'm not letting you go again. Not without getting my revenge first.

  
  



	5. Timeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everybody! I watched the show for the 5th time and I noticed some dahlias at Emily’s house so…… yeah, my imagination was running wild for this. Hopefully I gave you guys some answers with this chapter. Hopefully; who knows?

_ 1922 _

The stage was huge and the curtains were embroidered with CC's. Caleb Covington. The magician everyone was talking about. He wasn't just the talk of the town, no; he was all over the newspaper in different states. 

In the theater the decorations were either black or gold and the tall man standing in the center was wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. His whole persona and aura were screaming for attention and validation, insinuating how narcissistic and egocentric he was. Because of that, no one could look directly at him without feeling uncomfortable and scared - that's why working for him was like hell on earth; not only because he would make insane demands like finding an enormous glass box in the middle of the night, but also because he wasn't very nice.

His four personal assistants were holding heavy chains, not very sure if that was a good idea. Everybody was tired, irritated and a little terrified, even though they would never say that out loud.

That their boss was mad. And he for sure was.

\- This is bigger than us, I can feel it. People will talk about me for centuries!

Nobody dared to say a thing. They just kept doing what they were supposed to, wondering if this trick wouldn't be too much, questioning where the firefighters were. Even in rehearsals, everything had to be as safe as possible. Caleb, however, was eager to try out this escape idea, saying that the rest of the time was already on their way and that they could go ahead and start.

One of the assistants was pouring alcohol inside the box, while the other three were getting the chains tight around the magician's body. When five locks were put in place, the only thing missing was the blindfold and the fire. 

\- And now, let's burn. - Covington said. Against his better judgment, the assistent lit up the platform around the box, watching the dancing flames reflect on the glass. Going back to the audience, the four assistants sat there in silence, scared for their own life.

Caleb didn't wait. He got inside the box with the blindfold and no way to break the chains or open the locks. The box could only open from outside and nobody could get near it because of the fire. And the alcohol inside sure was a deadly combination too, of course. But Caleb Covington was always right, always sure about his odds.

Until he wasn't.

When the rest of the crew got to the theatre, Caleb was already inside the box, struggling to get out. He still had one minute to go and the firefighters were ready to help him out.

Covington didn't think it through; the alcohol wasn't cold and it was more flammable than he thought, so when the glass box exploded, not even the firefighters could save his life. He didn't make it to the hospital and the police couldn't really blame anyone, especially not the assistants for doing their jobs.

Caleb Covington died a horrible death, performing one of his magic tricks.

And while he was burning, he blamed others for not getting it right. He was too perfect to be mistaken, so he died thinking he would find a way to be bigger, better and eternal.

Caleb Covington died wanting revenge, eternity and power.

Still, he died.

_ 1974 _

The year of 1974 was a roller coaster for Lily Peters. Her baby boy was born and the world was somehow brighter because of him. Somehow darker too.

His cute little nose brought joy to her heart and his tiny hand would hold her finger like if he were to ever let go, everything would fall apart.

The roller coaster started going down when he, in fact, did.

\- Listen to me, Lily. - The man said. His tone was low and his eyes were pleading for understanding and compassion. He wanted a family, of course, but everything was so complicated. He just couldn't turn around without trying one more time. - We can move to a different city if you want. We deserve a happy life, don't you think? Together.

Lily was young. Reckless wasn't really a word to describe her; instead she was smart, passionate, dedicated and bright. Incredibly bright. So when she got home eight months prior with red eyes and shaking hands, her parents didn't comprehend the syllables she was mumbling. Sounded like the world was ending or someone died.

When "I am pregnant" left her lips, they were surprised. Both of them couldn't think of a single thing to say. Out of shock, they held her, petting her long hair and crying silently with their daughter. The tears weren't a result of a heavy heart or disappointment; the tears were based on joy, love and gratitude. 

For both of them, at least. To her, not so much.

The baby boy's dad was an amazing man. He was a journalist known for being honest yet gentle. His articles and photos were always delicate and strong. He was always smiling, always being nice to strangers, always believing in something, in someone. He was also a dreamer; a very realistic one, for that matter. He would dream with his head up in the sky and feet on the ground.

It was hard for him wrapping his head around what Lily was saying. Maybe it was because he was older than her, but he just couldn't see things from her point of view.

\- I've made up my mind. - Lily said. She kept going down and down, afraid she wasn't going to see the light again. Her decision was a blind intent to make the roller coaster to up again. - I can't keep him.

Her parents were strongly against the idea of giving the baby away. None of Lily's friends knew about the pregnancy, so there was nobody else to beg her to see things clearly. She could stay in college and still be a mom; she could have a beautiful life with her beautiful son and be happy. There was no reason to fear what other people would say; her son's presence could cure her heavy heart of any nasty remark or malicious look.

Lily was young and she made a bad choice; one that she would regret forever. But no one could blame her for not knowing better until she knew better.

\- Well, I can. - The man replied. He was crying, holding his son carefully and wondering how could anyone give up on him. - I am going to keep him and be a great father to our son. He's going to be an amazing person and I'm sorry that you won't be there to see it.

It wasn't an easy decision. 1974 was the year of California Jam, when people could be audacious and careless in a crowd, but scared and small inside of their own houses. Lily was feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenthood, of her own being and all the life she would have to forget. She wasn't ready, but her son couldn't wait.

\- Lily, darling, are you sure? - Her parents were merely observers. They wanted their grandson around, they wanted to see him growing up, going to school and smiling. They wanted everything they could get, but it was Lily's choice and being a parent didn't give them the right to make choices for their daughter. - Is this the right decision?

The words couldn't come out, so she just nodded. The sad journalist nodded too, understanding that he was now on his own. Well, at least he wasn't alone and his soul was satisfied with his decision: he could never say that he abandoned his own child. That's something he would never forgive himself for.

The baby didn't wake up with the comotion and Lily thanked the heavens for it. If she saw his pretty green eyes she would've turned around and begged them to stay.

Ray instinctively smiled at his mom for the first and last time, still in his sleep. Lily cried when both of them left the house, wondering if she was right.

\- We're going to be fine, Ray Molina. - The man whispered to his son, kissing his forehead. - You are the love of my life.

_ 1993 _

\- Hi. Do you have a name or can I call you mine? - Reggie's friends started laughing, embarrassed by his lack of filter. They didn't understand that their friend's words were natural, almost like an instint. Reggie didn't feel that intense connection with anyone there at the book club; let alone with someone he never met before. - Maybe I went too far with that one. I think I have the right to remain silent.

There he was again, using humor to hide things.

Reginald Peters was a scaredy cat with a very believable mask: funny remarks and the I-am-stupid façade. His personality was joyful and light, used to hide all the years his mom mistreated him and his dad ignored his existence. Reggie knew he was born to save their marriage, but it was doomed a long time ago, with no saving at all. The boy grew up with no sense of hope for romantic love and no understanding of self preservation.

And none of that was his fault; his longing for parental support or the lack of ambition in his educational life. Reggie had no one to appreciate him, to build him up, to be there for him unconditionally. That is until Luke and Alex showed up.

And then Ethan.

\- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - Alex said, making Luke laugh even louder.

People started asking them to keep it quiet, to what both of them complied easily - they loved the snacks there. The boys went back inside to grab something to eat while Reggie and Ethan stood there in the backyard, looking at each other, trying to understand their feelings.

It wasn't something measurable or understandable. No one could explain the feeling of coming back home that they felt when their eyes met.

They were both speechless.

Reggie and Ethan were admiring each other's details. The bridge of their nose, their eyebrows, the way their hair would flow with the wind, their freckles; everything that met the eye. Still, they couldn't pinpoint what it was.

\- Hey. - Ethan replied, holding out his hand. Reggie looked into Ethan's eyes, then his lips and only then took his hand in his. Time seemed to stop around them. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

Ethan liked metaphors, so if he were asked to describe that moment, he would've said that it felt like lying down in his bed after a long summer away from home. It was comfortable, safe, heartwarming, relaxing. Great. And Reggie would've nodded his head, agreeing with the comparison.

Coming back to each other after lifetimes away was refreshing. Living away from each other was cruel and all the hardships were long forgotten with a simple touch.

Hand in hand, Ethan smiled at Reggie, wondering how long it's been.

It was just one lifetime, but it felt like forever.

_ 1994 _

\- This. You and I. - Ethan said, turning to face Reggie, who looked perplexed. Ethan falted, thinking he read the whole picture wrong. - My parents would kill me.

Reginald opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify himself.

\- Ethan, what are you talking about? - Reggie asked with a scoff. The façade was up again, blending in with the boy's features just well. - We're only friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke.

A joke.

The worst part about the "we're only friends" card is the "only" part. It was like their friendship was insignificant or insufficient; seemed like the "just friends" made each other smaller. They had the potential to be more, to take up more space in each other's life, to hold a more special value in his heart, but "just friends" limited Ethan from achieving what he really wanted.

"Just friends" sounded like "I'm by your side, but I'm not relevant enough'’ to Ethan.

\- I'm sorry. I have to go. - A heartbroken Ethan said.

Ethan shouldn't be sorry - that was the first thing Reggie thought after he left. Ethan should be there, with him, holding his hand and maybe hearing a new song they were working on. Yet Reginald couldn't move, almost like his feet were glued to the ground. Above the loud music, he could hear the clock on the wall, ticking mercilessly telling him he missed his chance to let his stars, his path collide with Ethan's. Above the loud music, he felt stuck in time, not getting older, further away from paradise.

"Now or never" quickly turned into "maybe next life" to him.

_ 1995 _

Death was about the living.

Death was about who stayed on Earth, wondering about the words they didn't speak and about the food they didn't taste in the company of the deceased. Death was a silence that people shared because they were told so and because they had no special powers to change it.

Death was a cry of mourning from the living, a closed coffin, the ashes thrown from a beautiful hill that the deceased could never see or that they loved very much; a dream or a memory. Death was a watch that forgot to keep running, a battery that no longer fed anything, a pause.

Death was about who wasn't dead.

Death was about many people who would feel affected by absence. Family, friends, strangers who would question their own existence because of someone's obituary.

Death was, indeed, about the living.

In that case, about Rose, Bobby and the boys' families.

About how Luke's parents almost didn't attend the funeral. Their broken heart was physically hurting them and leaving the house was hard. They kept waiting for their son's return, choosing to ignore the fact that was dead. Emily and Mitch Patterson stayed by the door, imagining their son's figure coming back home. That never happened.

About how Lisa and Jarred Mercer, Alex's mom and dad, didn't cry. They stared at their son's picture in silence. People came and went, saying they would pray for comfort, but it was just empty. Everything was empty; the words, their bodies, their soul. Losing a son shouldn't happen. It was in the unsaid manual of life: parents should go first. Burying a child was an ache no body should ever feel. The literal body really, considering how physical the pain could be. Alex's parents, for instance, couldn't eat for days. They couldn't sleep or smile. Breathing was painful, remembering was even worse.

About how Reginald's father was drunk while the priest prayed. He stayed away from everybody, just tripping on his own feet and murmuring "I'm sorry". He wasn't talking about Reggie - he was thinking about Lily, his wife, and how she didn't care about their son. He was apologizing for losing all their money, for gambling, for not being a good husband. He cried too, but his father's angry voice screaming "don't cry, you're a man" echoed in his mind soon enough. He left before anybody could see him.

About how Rose visited Emily and Mitch many times, always taking Dahlias, her favorite flower, to them. She would just make sure they ate, talk a little bit about life and play chess with Mitch. She won a few times. Alex's parents were too stubborn to accept her consolation in the form of company, but she didn't give up. After a few cookies and a few letters making sure they were alright, she got invited for dinner. She took Bobby with her and they talked about Alex like they had known each other for the longest time. His parents had many regrets and it pained Rose to see it, so she reassured them, from a daughter's perspective, that Alex loved them with all his heart. When she went to college, they lost contact, but the great memories lingered and that helped both families. That's how Rose found her love for social work and the house she wanted to live in the future: someday she wanted to buy Alex's house.

Death was about how Bobby tried helping Reggie's parents. He looked for them everywhere, but they moved out of town. Bobby even went to Lily's work - nobody knew about her. All his strength was dedicated to honor his friends and their music, so when he didn't find Reginald's parents, he decided to be famous and let them come to him. He worked day and night, finishing the songs, working multiple shifts to get money for a demo and doing his best to be more social. He needed connections, luck and money to make his plan of honoring his friends work. All he had was determination and he hoped that could be a start.

Death was about all that and many lives affected by the loss of Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer and Luke Patterson.

_ 2002 _

The baby cried with such intensity and still his parents were never more delighted by any sound they've ever heard.

\- Welcome to the world, Richie.

_ 2018 _

The clouds were matching Lucas' humor: grumpy, dark and bothered.

He wanted to go back to the cafe, to explain his situation to Jarred and Lisa, but his guitar was stolen and his face was still bruised from his last fight. He couldn't just show up and act like everything was alright like he would usually do.

Living in the streets was easier than staying in the system. The houses he had been to, the families that treated him like a piece of salvation just like the catholic church and indulgences… he was done with that. At least he was trying to make sure he could live freely; as free as a homeless teenager could be.

He was in a park somewhere when the rain started pouring. At first it was shy. In a matter of seconds, the sky was falling down and Lucas was laughing at his luck. No guitar, no family, no food, no place to go. Lonely, cold and irritated, he started singing as loud as he could. No one was nearby and the world was his.

There was so much anger in his throat that it pained the boy a little. He was mad, sad and even confused to why he couldn't just fit in. Find a family, have a house, go to school and have friends. The closest thing he had was Richie - the cheerful boy made him feel at ease for the first time in years. They connected instantly, playing together at Alex's Foundation for musicians/people that liked music.

He wouldn't call everybody there musicians; some people were terrible singers.

Lucas missed Richie so much. Even though the boy didn't know about his housing situation, he'd always be selfless and give him food. There was one time Richie even gave Lucas his jacket, because, according to Richie, Lucas looked cold. The boy was the brother Lucas wanted, the person worth smiling at, the best friend.

After a while, the sky stopped crying and Lucas went to his usual spot, close to a 24 hour diner. Sometimes the waiter would be nice enough to give him bread or fries. He never expected anything though; he would just sit and wait. Wait for life, for salvation, for hope, for someone.

That night Lucas found Richie, Rose and death.

After the rain, life would never be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody!  
> This is my first fanfic here, so please, be nice :)  
> English is not my first language, so if there's anything wrong, let me know ok? Thank you so so so much for reading and have a lovely day/night/week/life!


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